A Death Eater Christmas
by The Werewolf Mage
Summary: Voldemort has lost it. He's enjoying the holidays. And Gen and Snape are stuck with him and the other Death Eaters. Who's going to snap first? Besides Voldemort, that is. Rated to be safe.


Title: A Death Eater Christmas

Summary: Voldemort has lost it. He's enjoying the holidays. And Gen and Snape are stuck with him and the other Death Eaters. Who's going to snap first? Besides Voldemort, that is.

Notes: Yeah, it's a random, nonsense Christmas present to everyone who reads my fics. I thought of Voldemort versus the Grinch, but I think a whacked-out Voldemort celebrating the holidays would be much more... festive. So enjoy! Even if it's not much in length, or party-wise.

The Death Eaters had all gathered in the Riddle House because Voldemort had called them there. The last thing any of them had expected was a Christmas party from the Dark Lord himself.

It was a real party, not an act. And he seemed to have gone all out for it.

There was tinsel and fake snow, real fluttering faeries, a large Christmas tree, holly along the large table laden with food, glittery bows and yet, no mistletoe. Most likely due to the ratio of male-to-female Death Eaters.

After a few tentative moments, the only two not enjoying themselves were one Severus Snape and one Gwendolyn Moore. The two of them were lurking in the shadows by the stairs, hoping nobody would spot them.

Snape looked as though he was very tempted to take the star off the top of the tree and gouge his eyes out with it. Gwendolyn was trying to stay behind Snape, that way, if anyone spotted them, it would be Snape and not her that got seen first.

Not to mention the sight of Voldemort enjoying himself was traumatic to both of them, especially seeing as how he was not inflicting pain on anyone.

"What do you think?" she asked Snape, sitting down on the stairs and tearing her gaze away from Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback chugging down bottles of meade, seeing who could out-drink the other.

"I think..." Snape began, greasy black hair falling in his face, shielding out some of the holiday mayhem, "it's a bit of the happiness of finally doing away with Dumbledore."

"Makes sense." she muttered, equally black hair falling in her eyes, though hers was not greasy. "I guess." she added.

"Or maybe he's lost it?" she asked quietly.

"Maybe." Snape crossed his arms over his chest and stared at a point on the wall. So far, nobody had bothered them. And he was hoping that nobody would.

'Where is an Invisibility Cloak when you need one?' he thought. 'I could sneak out of this mess and get home.'

It was as though someone finally realized that they were not among the drunk Death Eaters enjoying themselves. A ball of fake snow headed their way, exploding an inch or two away from Gen. She did not flinch.

"Did you see who threw that?" she muttered bitterly.

"No."

"Hmm."

She wrapped her thick black traveling cloak a bit tighter around herself and sighed. "How long -- "

"No idea." He was truthful in that, but he did not add that once he saw an opening, he was bolting. She could stay. She, at least, was used to being around drunken men twice her age, if not more.

"You know what I actually like about this?"

Snape wished she would stop speaking to him. But he had to ask. What could be so enjoyable about this?

"He's not running around in underwear."

Snape silently agreed with her. This was much better than... that unspeakable night. He shuddered slightly at the thought.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable sitting, Gen got to her feet and leaned against the wall. But found herself facing the darkened upper floor of the Riddle House, not bearing the sight of the partying Death Eaters. And not wanting to catch Voldemort's eye.

Who knew what kind of wrath he'd throw upon them if he saw them not enjoying the festivities?

At the sound of a crash, she jerked her head around. And she spotted Snape making a dash for the door and quickly followed, not wanting to see what had happened.

Outside, in the snow, she stopped to catch her breath. "What did you do?" she demanded of Snape as he turned back to face her.

"I didn't." he said. "Malfoy met the Christmas tree."

She straightened up and asked, "What, no help from you?" He shook his head. "Well, they shouldn't notice us gone. I think they're all too drunk to see straight. Which is what I'll be doing. I'll see you around."

Snape nodded once before Disapparating. He felt she was right. Drinking would be a nice way to get the thoughts of Voldemort's most likely failed Christmas party out of his head.


End file.
